Unexpected
by She Walks With Grace
Summary: Who knew a few well spoken words could change someone's feelings for someone else in the most dramatic way. Draco Malfoy has fallen in love, but has he changed enough for her to accept him? Draco/Hermione, slightly A/U
1. Chapter 1: In Too Deep

**This FanFiction is based in the year following the war against the Dark Lord. The survivors of the war (I have brought back a couple of characters I felt should come back), return to Hogwarts, as they feel continuing with their lives after spending a year fighting and on the run, making their own lives on their own would be too difficult, so going back to Hogwarts was to ease them back into normality. Some survivors have not returned, though.**

_He buried his nose in her soft hair once more, inhaling her sweet, spicy scent. His arms encircled her waist, pulling her closer against him. Her head lolled back onto his shoulder, and he gently kissed the edge of her jaw. She let out a content sigh._

_ They swayed on the spot like that for a while, under the canopy of stars above them, a warm summer breeze swept over them, and tugged at the curtains hanging in the balcony doorway behind them._

_ The girl in his arms tilted her head towards him, her eyes shut. He leaned down and caught her lips gently in his. They kissed for a moment, a pure kiss, of love, and adoration. _

_ She softly pulled away, and leant her head into the hollow just above his collarbone. He sensed she was spent, and carefully removed one arm from his love's waist, and bent down to hook it behind her knees, lifting her into his arms. He carried her back into the bedroom, and delicately laid her down on the king sized bed, trying not to jostle her._

_ After pulling the duvet over her, he walked quietly round to the other side of the bed, and lay on top of the blanket beside her, watching the steady in-out of her breath. He was transfixed by the rise and fall of her chest. She rolled over unconsciously to face him, and he moved in closer, his eyes running down her straight nose, her high cheekbones, and across her full pink lips, drained into dark grey by the pale moonlight that fell across the bed. Her faintly lilac eyelids fluttered, at the same time her lips moved, very slightly._

_ "Draco..." she murmured. He smiled faintly._

_ "Hermione..." He answered, even though she couldn't hear him. "I love you." And he moved closer to her, to lay a soft kiss on her forehead, before draping one arm over her middle, and drifting off to sleep, his love beside him._

He woke with a start, and it took a moment for him to realise where he was. As soon as he realised it had been a dream, pain washed over him, and he dropped his face back into his pillow with a heartfelt moan. How could he let himself get like this? There were so many things _wrong_ with it. Firstly, he wasn't supposed to fall in _love, _he was Draco Malfoy, for Slytherin's sake! He was a fighter, and strove hard for good grades, good reputation, and spent his free time captaining the Slytherin house Quidditch team. And these days, all he seemed to be able to do was watch _her_. Secondly, she was in _Gryffindor_, the enemy house of his own, and although there was dating between other members of Slytherin and Gryffindors, He was seen as the prince of Slytherin, and her, the Queen of Gryffindor, and her friends Ronald Weasley, and Harry 'The Chosen One' Potter were his sworn enemies. And thirdly, and possibly most importantly, depending on your views, she was a _Mudblood_.

As soon as the word slipped into his thoughts, he cursed himself for thinking it. The past weeks of his infatuation with her had completely changed his views. How could he hate something, no, some_one_ so...amazing, beautiful, intelligent, and who could command magic so flawlessly?

What really surprised Draco, was how pure all his dreams of her had been. Nothing _indecent _had ever occurred in them, unlike other fantasies he had had in the past. And that's what told him how much trouble he was really in.

"Nice one, Draco, nice one." He groaned to himself.

Heavy hearted, he dragged himself out of bed and reached for his trunk, pulling on a dark pair of worn jeans, and a plain white shirt, the sleeves of which he pushed up past his elbows. Before leaving the dormitory, he checked his reflection in the mirror on the back of the door. With a hand, he subconsciously rumpled his hair, adding to the bed hair look, and then strode out of the door.

He ran into her as he entered the Great Hall for breakfast.

"Oh, uh, sorry, Granger." He apologised hastily, befuddled. She gave him a scrutinising look, confusion showing through her annoyed glare. Probably wondering why he had apologised at all, he thought sadly, his heart sinking. Before..._this, _ he would've pretended he had crashed into her on purpose, knowing she would get annoyed.

They stood, her glaring at him, and him looking apologetic for a moment. He gazed over her, and perhaps lingered his eyes too long on her chest.

"Don't make me slap you, Malfoy" She warned, in something close to a growl. She glowered at him once more before spinning on her heel and stalking off in the direction of her common room, leaving behind her the vanilla spice scent of her perfume. Malfoy stood, gawking after her, for several minutes.

When he had regained enough of his senses, he tried to understand what had just happened, and failed. Shaking his head to clear it of her intoxicating perfume, he headed into the loud breakfast room.

"Morning," He greeted Blaise Zabini as he sat down at the long table beside his friend.

"Hey," Blaise paused, " Are you okay man? You look...well, completely out of it, to be totally honest with you."

"What? Uh, yeah, I'm fine, weird night."Blaise nodded understandingly.

"Why didn't you wake me before you came down?" Draco asked, reaching for a slice of toast.

"Ah, sorry man. Though you did look like you were having a good dream, thought you'd be annoyed if you were and I woke you from it. I would be." He smirked.

"Thanks." Draco said, gratefully. It _had _been a good dream, he though to himself, as Zabini turned back to his conversation with Pansy Parkinson, who was sitting on his other side. Draco chewed distantly on his piece of toast, his mind still on the incident in the hallway.

He didn't know what he could do now, and he didn't think he could just keep his feelings suppressed anymore, though what he expected himself to do with them, he had no idea.

* * *

_Ugh, he was so _infuriating_!_ She thought as she stormed down the corridor towards the Gryffindor portrait hole. _Stupid, greasy, charming, handsome ferret boy! _She snarled to herself, before; _Woah, back up there, what did you say?! Charming? Handsome?! What? _ She mentally shook herself, confused. Where had that come from?

Malfoy had gotten under her skin once too many times. Maybe she should have slapped him in the hallway, after all. She hadn't hit him since third year, he must have done enough to deserve getting hit once more by now...

Or maybe she should just stop thinking about him. He had been all too present in her thought these days and it was starting to drive her insane.

Harry and Ron were lounging in two large armchairs by the fire when she reached the common room. They caught her furious expression the moment she entered.

"'Mi? What's up?" asked Harry, concerned.

"Malfoy," she snarled. Ron's hands balled into fists at the name.

Harry looked sideways at his friend, and guessed he was too tense to ask the next question.

"What happened?"

Hermione sighed. "Nothing really. I was just coming out of breakfast, and he ran straight in to me."

"...And?"

"And then he apologised!"

Harry's charms book hit the rug with a dull _thud_, his expression one of mock horror. Ron fell to join the book on the floor, clutching his sides, wracked with spasms of silent laughter. Hermione's scowl deepened.

"H-he ran into you, and th-then he _apologised_?!" Ron managed to choke from the floor, still in hysterics. "That's shocking, 'Mione, maybe Harry and I should go take care him for you, hex him or something," He laughed.

She could've explained the lingering glance he had given her, but for some reason she wanted to keep that private, her own memory, though why she wanted to do that, she couldn't think.

Harry caught her still looking annoyed. "Hey, why don't we head down to Hogsmead today, you look like you could use a break."

"Yeah, ok," She smiled at him, "That'd be nice, thank you."

* * *

The three of them huddled in a corner of the Three Broomsticks, sipping butterbeers. It was not warm for a March morning. The windows had fogged up, and there was no where in the room that escaped the cold draft that swept in whenever someone came in or left.

"Blasted Scotland," Ron muttered unhappily, "It'll probably snow later..."Harry grunted in agreement. The was another long pause. None of them felt particularly chatty that morning.

"Did that thing with Malfoy really bother you, Hermione?" Asked Ron, looking worried.

"Yeah, kinda. Also unnerved me a bit. Since when did he apologise? Normally he'd just pretend he walked into me on purpose, make a smooth comment, call me _mudblood_," Ron's grip on his butterbeer tightened, "and slither away. It just seemed...odd."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, "It does seem a little weird..." He trailed off, leaving them in silence once again. Hermione ran her finger around the rim of her now empty glass. She sighed and stood up. Ron looked up at her, questioningly.

"I've got to go to Scrivenshaft's, I'm in need of some ink and parchment, Professor Flitwick has that essay set, and I only have two feet of parchment left."

"But Hermione, that essay is only supposed to be a foot long,"

"At _least _a foot. Just because you like getting by on the minimum amount,"Ron scowled, "How about I meet you in Honeydukes in half an hour?"

"Sure," said Harry, "See you later."

"See you." And gathering her winter cloak around her, she headed for the door.

* * *

He decided to head down to Hogsmeade, to escape the gloomy Slytherin common room, and the cold halls of the school. The weather was bitter, and Blaise and Theodore Nott both had work to do, so he went alone.

He wasn't sure what he was actually going to do once he reached Hogsmeade, as he was fully stocked on anything he might need, schoolwise, and a trip the the Three Broomsticks seemed less inviting alone. He considered paying a visit to the Hog's Head. You could have the most fascinating conversations with some of the people that drank there, and he needed that kind of distraction at the moment.

Draco saw her as she was leaving the Three Broomsticks, alone, oddly, and turned down the wide alley that ran alongside the pub. Staying well behind, he followed her.

"Hermione," He spoke, as he reached the entrance to the alley. She froze, mid-step. "I was wondering if...I could talk to you." His mouth said, while his mind still wondered what he was going to say. She turned.

"What, Malfoy?" She sighed in an exasperated tone, telling him that she wanted him to say whatever he was going to, so she could leave. He took a hesistant step forwards. And then was no standing barely a metre from her. She looked up at him, waiting for him to speak. His mouth opened, but no words came out. Frustrated at himself, he looked over the top of her head, frowning, trying to figure out what to say.

Without thinking, his left hand caught her chin, and pulled her face up to his, and before she could even react, titled his head to press his lips to hers...

_Bam! _Two things collided into him with the force of a charging bull, slamming him into the wall of the alley. The back of his head struck the stone with a sharp _crack. _Draco's vision swam out of focus, and pain shot through his skull. He was faintly aware of the tip of a wand pressed firmly against his jugular. A silent spell had obviously been cast, his wrists, waist and ankles feeling locked to the wall.

Weasley voice hissed threateningly in his ear, "Stay away from her you greasy, good for nothing _slime ball_. You may have done your bit in the war, but that's over now, and nothing has changed on the status of our _friendship_. Leave Hermione _alone_. Don't touch her, don't speak to her, don't even _look_ at her. D'you hear?" He gulped, and felt the wand press harder into his throat. Raising his eyes to look over Potter and Weasley's shoulders, he found Hermione, and threw a pleading look in her direction.

"Hermione..."

"What did I _just _tell you?" Weasley snarled. His arm pulled back, his hand a fist, and snapped forwards, connecting with Draco's temple. Everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2: Complicated

**Right, so the chapters for this shall be short ones, but I hope to update regularly, so please don't dismiss me for it. Your reviews are greatly appreciated, the fw of you that have reviewed. I do appreciate the constructive critism. And feel free to yell at me if you feel I'm not updating enough (:**

The punch must have broken the Ligatio charm Harry had cast, Draco slumped down the wall, unconscious. Hermione stood in the same spot she had been standing when he had tried to..._kiss_ her. Finally words found her.

"What did you do that for?!" she demanded at Ron.

"He tried to kiss you! Though it looked a lot more like assault from where we were standing," Ron retorted, put out by her response.

"So you decided to slam him against a wall, bind him, threaten him, and then knock him out? Be reasonable Ronald," she said curtly. He glowered, fire burning in the back of his eyes. "We're not going out anymore," she said, softly, "You don't have to feel the need to protect me all the time now. I fought as well as you did in the war, whether you or Harry, or anyone else from the Order was there to protect me or not. Compared to that, some guy trying to kiss me is nothing; I could have sorted him out myself, if I wanted to."

"And did you?" When she didn't answer immediately, a suspicious look entered his face. To be perfectly honest, she hadn't had a lot of time to think about attacking him as soon as he released her, before he was flung into a wall. Her eyes narrowed.

"Er, guys, can we just head to Honeydukes now? And then we'll go to Scrivenshaft's after, okay?" Harry spoke, for the first time since Ron and him had spotted Malfoy and Hermione in the alley.

Hermione was the first to pull out of the glaring contest between her and her red-headed best friend.

"Sure."

They walked off in the direction of the sweet shop, Hermione flanked by her friends, leaving Malfoy unconscious in the alley.

Once Hermione was sure Harry and Ron were too distracted with throwing cockroach clusters at each other, she made a break for it, running at a sprint back to the alley.

When she reached him, he was just coming round. She dropped down to his side. He groaned, and his eyelids fluttered.

"Malfoy?" She placed a hand on his arm, and shook him slightly.

"Urrgh," he groaned again, leaning forward and putting his head between his knees. Hermione gasped at the bloody mess at the back of his head.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Not really, no," came his muffled answer.

"Well, you're a mess, if you don't mind me saying. You've got blood-" she cut off, feeling slightly ill for some reason. He lifted a hand to the back of his head, gingerly pressing it to the bloodied hair, and holding back a gasp of pain, biting down hard on his bottom lip.

"Let me help you get to the Hospital Wing," she offered, "I don't trust myself to heal you."

"Sure."

He leaned his weight on her and he stood, not trusting his legs. As soon as he was upright, he leaned against the wall, pinching the bridge of his nose. Hermione waited for his discomfort to cease, before putting an arm around his middle, to give what support she could, and helping him take a step forward.

It took them ten minutes just to get back to the main path back to Hogwarts. They made their progress in silence until then.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked her suddenly, looking down at her.

"Doing what?" She kept her eyes firmly on the path ahead.

"Helping me." He spoke quietly.

"Don't take it personally; I would have helped anyone unconscious in the cold, especially one attacked by my own friends, no matter what they had done to upset them into doing so, or my own opinion on their actions."

There was another pause.

"And what was your opinion on _my_ actions?" This question again. One she still had no answer to.

"I-I don't know. That would depend on your motives."

Pause.

"Do you not want to know those motives?" His voice was barely audible now. She took a deep breath in. Part of her did want to hear them, she thought, as the image of him looking over her head, and emotions that looked like frustration and almost _pain _shone from his steel grey eyes, sprang to mind, as did the memory of him grabbing her chin between his thumb and the side of his forefinger and pulling her face up to his. Yes, she would like to know the motives between those things. But...

"No, I don't think I do. I don't think I trust you not to be playing with me, making a fool of me. You've enjoyed doing so many times in the past why should that change now?"

Draco stopped walking, pulling Hermione to a halt beside him.

"The war changed everyone, Hermione," he whispered.

"Some qualities are too deeply engrained," she countered, daring herself to look him in the face as she spoke. He flinched at her words, a reaction she had not expected.

Looking away from her face, he started forwards again on his own, though she could almost see him wincing at every step, even from behind.

Then she ran to catch up with him, and scooted under his left arm again, her own arm supporting him around the middle once more. He didn't object, or try to push her away, but he didn't say anything else, either.

"Sorry," she said, eventually.

"Why?" His voice was hard.

"I shouldn't judge you. I don't know you. And I guess I sort of knew you _before_, but everyone's changed. You're practically a stranger now." She shrugged.

"What makes you say that?"

"Seriously?" she scoffed. When he didn't reply, she continued, "I mean, look, you, for some unfathomable reason, tried to _kiss_ a '_Mudblood'_." She paused, wondering if she had actually felt him flinch at the word, or if she was just imagining it. "Got attacked by said Muggleborn's friends, and are now being taken back to school by her. Before, you wouldn't have minded getting beaten up, as long as you got to throw a few hurtful insults before dragging yourself off back to school."

"I guess I probably would have done that before...," something similar to regret coloured his voice.

"Exactly."

There was another pause as they crossed the last fifty feet to the school gates.

"Thank you," Draco said quietly.

"As I said, would've done it for most people."

"You still did it though," she didn't reply, trying to ignore the odd glances she was getting from passing pupils.

"Does their looking bother you?" he asked her, sensing her slight discomfort. She considered this.

"Not really, no. It just feels a little odd. How about you?"

"No," he said, his answer surprising her once more.

They walked the rest of the way to the Hospital Wing in silence, neither of them feeling the need to say anything more.

Madame Pumfrey tutted at the sight of the back of Draco's head. He had the mother of all headaches, but wasn't going to let onto that with Hermione in the room.

"Fighting," the nurse sniffed, "I can never decide whether I prefer magical or physical. Magical tends to not do as much damage, but physical is either to heal. It would be so much easier if you boys decided not to fight amongst yourselves at all," she muttered as she filled a basin with water and dipped a cloth in it, before dabbing the bag of his head. He winced. Madame Pumfrey waved her wand all traces of blood vanished, and parting Draco's hair of the gash. She tsked. A deep purple bruise surrounded the split skin, a thick line of red about and inch long. Hermione's complexion turned slightly greenish.

"Easy enough to heal, Mister Malfoy," the nurse commented, pointing to the wound with her wand. Slowly, the bruising turned from purple to dark green, and the gash formed a scab over itself, before it faded into a line of dark pink scar tissue, and the bruise shank further, and paled to yellow.

"You've probably got a pretty nasty headache now, too. Here, drink this," she said, passing him a small cup full of a blueish watery substance. He knocked it back quickly, trying to disguise the look of disgust from his face.

"Off you go now, and no more fighting," she warned him, and strode back into her office.

Draco turned to Hermione. "Let's go."

* * *

They parted with a brief "Bye," outside the hospital wing, Draco heading down to the dungeons, and Hermione hurrying along a corridor to the left. He almost tripped on the stairs in his hurry to get back to his dormitory. He caught Blaise just as he was leaving the common room.

"Woah, hey man, where've you been all morning?"

"Oh, er, went down to Hogsmeade, got beaten up by Potter and Weasley and taken back up here to Pomfrey by someone." Draco told him, grinning broadly.

"Right...sounds, er, fun. Why'd they beat you up?" Asked Blaise, one eyebrow disappearing under his fringe.

"They thought I was attacking Granger," And with a roguish smirk, he disappeared through the wall into the Slytherin common room, leaving his friend standing, looking bemused, in the dungeon corridor.

* * *

Once in his dorm, he flopped down onto his four poster bed, mind reeling. He had kissed her! Well, not quite, but still. And then she had walked him back up to school, her arm around his waist...

They had had their first proper one to one conversation, too.

It'd been nice, though he was sorry he hadn't had the chance to prove to her that he wasn't the same person he had been before.

His mind drifted, and then settled on the moment where he saw past the fact that Hermione Granger was a muggle-born...

_The war had ended only hours previously. The dead lay in rows in the Great Hall and the cries of mourners rang off the walls. Would the hurting never end? Friends, family, loved ones, all snatched away by the hand on evil. Yes, it was evil. He had been wrong before, he could see that now._

_Draco's eyes raked the floor, until the found someone he knew amongst the bodies. Yet another piece of what little was left of him broke of and shattered. Vincent Crabbe lay still, in the row where the Slytherin table should have been._

_At that moment, Draco had honestly considered how much his life was worth now. He had hardly anyone left. He father would be sent to Azkaban, for sure, and his mother would never be the same again. His own future was uncertain. He had been a part of this too, hadn't he? He had fought against, and though he had seen at the last moment how wrong he had been, could he be forgiven? After assisting in the deaths that had occurred over the past year..._

_And the _she_ stood up, and walked to the front of the room. Everything went quiet. Her eyes were red, and she looked as if she had closed in on herself, but she took a deep breath, and began,_

_"Today, we witnessed and fought in one of the most horrific battles the wizarding world will ever see." Her voice was quiet, but clear, " Many have been lost, and only one person deserved to lose their life today, and that was he- Lord Voldemort. Without him, his followers could have righted their wrongs and returned to the wizarding world._

_"In this war, everyone lost something important to them, whether a loved one, or their faith in the wizarding kind. Sadly, only one of them will be restored, with time. But remember this; if many good people went into battle, prepared to die to save the lives of others, then surely there is hope for us yet._

_"Mourn for those lost, today, and be thankful for those you have left._

_"And finally, some of you may have entered this wa on the other side, and left on ours. If this is the case," She said, and her eyes moved to look straight into his own, "Then we welcome you back with open arms."_


	3. Chapter 3: Shiver

**Aah, the amount of story hits is sky-rocketing with each chapter (Yay!). Keep commenting please, and currently I am replying to all your reviews. Now, hold on to your seats, this story is about to take off!**

Ron and Harry were waiting for her in the common room when she got back.

"Where have you been, Hermione?" asked Ron, trying to sound nonchalant, his expression curious.

"I took Malfoy to the hospital wing," She said, matter-of-factly. Ron's mask broke.

"Are you kidding me? After what he did to you?!"

"What _did _he do to me, eh?" Ron's face froze.

"Well, he, uh..."

"Exactly." Ron flopped into a chair, looking annoyed, but defeated.

"Are you sure you want to get into this. 'Mione?" Harry was different to Ron in that way. He asked deeper questions, concerned for his friend, rather than riding her over her own decisions.

"I'm not getting into anything, Harry. I just helped someone who needed it. There are only a few exceptions to who you should be allowed to leave unconcious in the cold, and Malfoy is not one of those."

"Well, okay then."

Ron looked incredulously at Harry, "That's it? You're just letting her off the hook? This is _Malfoy_ we're talking about."

"What hook, Ron? She was right in bringing him back to the school."

"It's still Malfoy. Why is she cozying up to him all of a sudden?!"

"I'm not '_cozying up_', Ronald." She snapped, before pushing past Harry, and dashing up to her dormitory, trying to hide the crimson blush that had filled her cheeks.

"Bonkers, completely bonkers," She heard Ron mutter as she fled the room.

* * *

Confused was probably the best word to describe the way Hermione felt over the next few days. Draco Malfoy kept on throwing her half-smiles each time they passed.

A week later, Hermione found herself in one of the girls' bathrooms, one hand propping herself up against a sink, the other slowly kneading her temples, trying in vain to rid herself of the image of _him_ from the backs of her eyes, like an image burnt into a TV screen. And the picture only became clearer at night, so detailed that she could pick out the flecks of black in his winter grey eyes.

She needed to get him out of her head, the sooner, the better.

She splashed water over her face and headed for the library.

* * *

"Hello," He spoke from the chair on the other side of the desk. She squeaked in surprise, and Draco couldn't help chuckling.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I frighten you?"Her eyes narrowed.

"What do you want, Draco?"She asked, irritated. His eyes widened in surprise.

"What?"

"You called me Draco." he said, still a little shocked.

"Yes, so?"

"It's probably the first time you've used my first name, that's all."

"Oh. It's not such a big deal; you seem to call me Hermione now, all of a sudden."

"Yes, I suppose that's true," He examined his fingernails as he spoke.

Neither of them spoke for a long time, and Hermione's eyes drifted back down to the book beneath her hands, while Draco sat silently, contemplating.

"I came to talk to you," He said, eventually, startling her slightly once more.

"About?"

"The alley in Hogsmeade,"

"It is a nice alley, a little plain, but nice all the same," She joked, trying to avoid the subject he was obviously aiming for.

"Funny," He sniffed, "You know what I'm talking about."

"Yes, I do. What about it?"

Draco's lips tried to form words, and he genuinely blushed. Hermione tried to hold back a giggle. Then realised that maybe she would have to speak first.

"I haven't stopped thinking about it," She whispered, trying not to speak so quietly that she would have to repeat herself. She was surprised at herself; this was something she had not even admitted to herself. Draco looked up in surprise, and his eyes met hers.

"Honestly?"His eyes seemed to glow with the question. She tried to look down again, but he hooked a finger under her chin. She gulped.

"Yes,"And with that word, he leant across the table, and pulled her face to his. Their lips met, and sparks seemed fizz between them, sending shivers down her spine. His lips were gentle, though less hesitant than her own. Her thoughts and any warnings her mind might have gathered up to stop her lay scattered, cast aside. Her hands moved to the back of his neck. He groaned slightly. Someone nearby in the library coughed, reminding them where they were. Draco whispered "Me too," in her ear, before pulling away.

"How about...a date?" He suggested, a coy smile twisting at the edge of his mouth. Hermione bit down on her bottom lip.

"I dunno, Draco, I mean, what would people think if they saw you with me?"

"Er...lucky guy?"He teased. She raised her eyebrow. "Ok, fine, a _secret_ date?"She sighed.

"Ok, fine." Nothing would please her more, but she wasn't about to tell him that, even if the look in her eyes suggested that he felt the same way.

"How about Tuesday, at, say, six o'clock? On the other side of the lake?" He suggested.

"That sounds...secret," she confirmed, "Now, be off with you, I have work to do, and people can come to the most ridiculous conclusions about two people they see together in the library..."

* * *

He could've skipped out of the library, but he managed to suppress that urge, expressing his glee through his broad grin, instead. Once in his common room, he collapsed over the back of a black leather sofa, so his head hung near the floor, and his knees were hooked over the seat back. Teddy Nott had been sitting, working at some potions work, but now looked down at the upside-down Draco, who was still grinning like a madman.

"By Gods man, are you possessed?" He asked, sounding jokingly alarmed. Blaise came over to see what was going on.

"Is he diseased?" He asked Teddy, playing along with the old-fashioned english. Malfoy giggled.

"For sure, this behaviour is most abnormal," Teddy shook his head.

"I am in love!" Draco sang happily. Teddy and Blaise shared a look.

"Right, either Master Draco here has been slipped something, or he's had one too many fire whiskeys, and as he's not breathing flames currently, I think we may have to assume the former." Draco pulled himself around, so he was upright once more.

"No seriously, guys, I am!"

Teddy raised an eyebrow, "You haven't been staring at pictures of Zabini's mum again, have you?"

Blaise cracked his knuckles threateningly. "Watch it, Nott, or your mudblood father could be in trouble."

Teddy grinned apologetically, then turned his eyes back to Draco's face. His cheeks were uncharacteristically flushed, his eyes sparkling. "So who's the girl, or guy," he added, "I'm not here to judge."

Draco bit his lip, he wasn't really supposed to say yet, they were a secret, after all. "I can't say. But she's amazing, beautiful, intelligent, everything," He sighed, happily.

"And she is real, right?"Blaise asked. Draco's eyes narrowed.

"Yes! She's also an _amazing _kisser," He gushed. Teddy wooped, while Blaise started at him, suspiciously.

"Right, Draco, now you really are starting to worry me. You come back from Hogsmeade all, well, high, after getting beaten up, of all things to be happy about, then today you burst in all flushed, declaring you're in love, and gushing about her being an amazing _kisser_?! Have you gone soft?"

"Why did Potter and Weasley beat him up?"Teddy asked, curiously.

"Oh, they thought he was attacking Granger, in Hogsmeade," Blaise told him, matter-of-factly, and then froze. Oh crap.

"You're in love with Granger?!" Teddy was astounded.

"What?! How did you come to that conclusion?" Draco asked, panicked.

"Weasley attacked you because he thought you were attacking Granger, right," Draco nodded uncertainly, "Well, you said _thought_, meaning you weren't. And Weasley is still very protective of her, is he not? Especially after they dated and all. So, you must have done something other than attack her to make him angry, so...you kissed her. It wouldn't be unreasonable to suspect that as well as actually fall in love, you would fall for a muggle-born, you've changed so much since the war." Damn, he was sharp.

"Not. A. Word." Draco hissed at Teddy. He was in way too deep. If Teddy or Blaise spread this around, he would be a dead man, and Hermione would never speak to him again. Nott held his hands up, defensively.

"I won't, I won't. And neither will Blaise, will you Blaise?" Blaise seemed to want to object, but Teddy elbowed him in the ribs, hard. Draco nodded, and walked towards the dormitories.

"I can't believe he's going out with a _mudblood_," Blaise muttered darkly from behind him. Without a second thought, Draco spun around and flew at Blaise, knocking him to the floor, and hit him in the face. Something crunched beneath his fist. He pulled himself of Zabini, giving him a disgusted look, and strode out of the room, his hands fists at his side.

"Well, at least that confirms that the real Draco is still there, somewhere." Teddy's voice wandered after him. He dug his nails deeper into his palms.

* * *

Ginny came and sat beside her at breakfast the next day. Hermione almost choked on her drink.

"What?!" She spluttered.

"Draco Malfoy."

"What about him?" She tried to sound casual.

"Oh come on, Hermione!" Her red-headed friend sounded exasperated, "It's so obvious! He's been giving you these weird looks for ages, and over the past week, you've been returning them, before disappearing into this little world inside your head for the next hour or so," Ginny stifled a giggle.

"I haven't, have I?" Hermione's cheeks flushed crimson.

"Yes, it's quite amusing really."

"And you're not...angry? That, I er, like him?" She asked, nervously.

"Angry? No. I was a little surprised at first, of course, but I mean, the heart wants what it wants, right?" Hermione smiled to herself. Yes, that sounded about right.

"But Herms, are you sure he's changed that much?" Her concern mirrored her boyfriend's.

"He has." She said, firmly.

"Well then, that's good enough for me," She beamed.

"Well, let's see if it's good enough for Ron,"

"Good point," Ginny laughed, before running to catch up with Harry, who was just leaving.

To be honest, Hermione didn't mind Ginny knowing. It was nice not to have everything secret anymore, or at least not completely.

"Hello," his voice spoke, soft in her ear. The sound sent shivers down her spine, and her heart beat frantically in her chest.

"Hi," She breathed. He chuckled lightly at her reaction.

"You know, I kind of like this," he laughed quietly.

"Like what?" Her heart refused to slow.

"Your...reaction to me," he whispered seductively, his breath hot against her ear. He ran a finger lightly down her spine, chuckling again as a shiver ran through her.

"I hardly think this is appropriate behaviour in a potions supply closet, Malfoy." She said, coldly, annoyed that he had discovered the power he help over her.

"Fine." She turned to look at him, but he had already rejoined his friends in the classroom. She would have to talk with Ginny later, to try and find a way to give her the upper hand. She would try and get it back tomorrow, at their date. She gulped. Tomorrow was too soon, but too long to wait, as well.

She sat on the end of Ginny's bed, her legs folded beneath her. They were the only two in the dormitory, luckily.

"Right, so you want to try and get back that..._power_ you seemed to have over him, right?" Hermione nodded.

"You do you get Harry under your spell, so to speak? I've seen the way he looks at you..."

"Ah, well, there's three things to it; feminine charm, temptation, and playing hard-to-get."

"So...act flirty, dress sexy, leave hanging?"

"Exactly!"

Hermione fretted in front of the mirror. She was wearing black skinny jeans, and a blue sweet-heart tee.

"Ginny, I'll freeze in this!" She whined.

"'Mione, are you honestly trying to tell me you know no spells for keeping yourself _warm_?!" She blushed. She did, but magic had skipped her mind in her panic. She muttered the spell, and felt a warm glow spread through her limbs. Another incantation and her hair softened, and its curls bounced slightly. Resorting to muggle methods, she applied a couple of layers of mascara and some lip-gloss, and turned back to Ginny, who was waiting patiently for her to finish from her bed.

"How do I look?" She asked, anxiously.

"Malfoy won't know what hit him," Ginny grinned, "Now; you don't want to keep Blondie waiting, do you?" Hermione shook her head, feeling slightly dazed. Ginny jumped off the bed and steered her towards the door.

_Alright,_ thought Hermione_, here goes._

_

* * *

_

Her heart was somewhere in her mouth as she descended the front steps of the school. Part of her brain was screaming at her to turn back, but it was quickly shouted down by the part of her that desperately wanted him alone.

The evening was quiet. The sun had not quite set yet, and birds were singing. A light breeze played across the otherwise still surface of the lake. The scene calmed her frayed nerves, and her heart slowly descended back into her chest, only to start beating at triple time at the sight of Draco Malfoy, standing with his back to her, a mere fifty feet away.

This was it; turn back now, before he noticed her, or go and join him.


	4. Chapter 4: Call The Shots

**Hey! Sorry for the late upload, I had difficulty with some bits of this next chapter, but I really shouldn't make excuses. Better late than never, though. As always, go back and check the last chapter before reading this, because I may have added stuff to it since you last checked it. I know it's annoying, and I'll try and stop doing the weird update thing now. This chapter is complete, and won't be added to, though. Please review, by the way, I enjoy your comments, and they keep me writing (: Enjoy!**

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In the end, it was only want and her Gryffindor courage that took her forward silently, until she was standing less than a metre from him.

"Hello," she said softly. He didn't start, but the set of his shoulders shifted very slightly.

"You came," he said, his back still turned.

"I said I would."

He slowly turned, his eyes fixed onto hers, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Well, thank you for keeping your promise, I suppose."

She paused, not knowing how to respond.

"Shall we sit?" he asked suddenly, and his wand flicked by his side, magicing a picnic rug and two cushions into appearance. Hermione made a sound of approval at his skill.

"You always were good at transfigurations, weren't you?" she commented

He nodded. "What brought you to that conclusion?"

"Second year, when you were duelling Harry. you created a snake. Conjuration, which is Sixth year transfiguration level." Draco nodded again.

"While you, Miss Granger, are good at...everything? Especially charms."

Hermione shook her head slowly. "Not everything." Draco gave her a quizzical look. "I'm not too good at Defence Against The Dark Arts," she explained. "I often go to Harry for help with that."

They were now each sat on a cushion, about half a metre apart.

"So tell me about your life before Hogwarts," he asked her, looking genuinely curious.

"Well," she started, "I went to a small primary school that was five minutes away from my house. My parents are both dentists. I am an only child. Back at my primary school, I had a best friend, Hannah. I still talk to her a bit, when I'm home. But I've always been a bookish type, and when we kids, she was the dolls and dress-up kind of girl. Now, of course, she's the parties and boyfriends type."

Malfoy looked thoughtfully at her.

"So, what about your childhood?" she asked. His eyes suddenly hardened, and he didn't reply.

"Are you hungry?" he asked as if she hadn't spoken. She had been before, but she suddenly felt slightly ill.

"I'm ok, thank you."

The pause that followed was awkward. Draco was staring at her face, ad she didn't know where to look. Her eyes drifted downwards and came to rest on his hands, which lay one on top on the other on his knees. In her mind, the memory of him running his finger down her back played. She remembered how it had _felt_.

"Why are you smiling like that?" The memory cut off suddenly. She blushed.

"I was remembering yesterday, in potions." She then remembered that she was supposed to be gaining the power back. And she suddenly knew how to.

"So you weren't thinking about that time in the library?"

"No. Although, I can't really remember much of that," she lied, drawing him in.

"Well," he said, leaning in towards her, "I could always _remind _you."

"That would be most kind of you." She too leaned in.

His lips were inches from her own, and she was extremely tempted to just cross the distance and just kiss him, but although she had gotten this far by following her feelings, if she wanted the upper hand, her brain would have to start working. She pressed forwards at a painfully slow rate. She could sense Draco's impatience, and, knowing she was winning, slowed down even further.

At the moment just before their lips met, she pulled away.

"You know, I am kind of hungry now," she said as if she hadn't done anything wrong. Draco managed to cover up the look of annoyance and what seemed to be disappointment on his face pretty easily.

Another flick of his wand, and a picnic hamper descended from nowhere, dropping to lie on the blanket. Plates of sandwiches drifted out of the top and floated around them, looking inviting. Hermione reached out and took one, not bothering to look what was in it. Keeping her eyes fixed on Draco's, she carefully nibbled around the edges of the small triangle, looking through her eyelashes in an attempt at flirting. Draco's brow twitched slightly, as he tried to keep his poker face. She slowly finished the sandwich, and licked off each finger, before turning to reach for a glass and the bottle of wine the floated above the hamper.

Before she had time to register the movement, she was flat on her back, Draco leaning over her.

"Don't do this," he growled, his face inches from hers.

"D-don't do what?"

"We both know what you're trying to do, and trust me, it's not going to work, so stop trying, before I get...frustrated." His eyebrows pulled together, and his eyes shone hard silver. Slowly he leaned in towards her, and grazed her nose lightly with his. Hermione tilted her head back slightly. Draco suddenly seized her lips in his own, his previous anger now apparent in the kiss. Hermione's lips stung as waves of electricity ran down her spine, and her hands automatically wound their way up to twist in his hair, pulling him closer. His own hands ran up and down her sides, before one slipped behind her back, crushing her against him.

Suddenly, Hermione pulled away.

"Stop," she whispered.

"What?"

"Stop. I can't." She pulled her eyes up to meet his, and quickly looked away again. They were suddenly stormy, and she could feel his glare boring through her skin.

"Why?" he ground out.

"I don't understand this. You haven't given any reasons, and all you've tried to do so far is kiss me. And if this is just some physical thing for you, then...I can't." She pulled her legs up from under his and started to get up. He didn't try to stop her, and stood up himself.

"It's not like that."

"Then what is it like, Malfoy?!" Her use of his last name had him recoiling, as if he'd been slapped. He didn't know how to answer her question. Hermione waited for his response, but he just stared at her, his brow furrowed.

"Bye, Malfoy," she whispered, before turning, and half running back to the school.

"Fuck it!" he yelled, and spun around, slamming his fist into the trunk of a nearby tree, suppressing a cry of pain as he felt at least one knuckle splinter.

Still swearing blindly, he headed back to the school, nursing his broken hand.


End file.
